Over Easter in April 2012, I spent 10 days in silence at a Vipassana meditation retreat. I had the opportunity to learn a lot about myself – some of it more surprising than I had anticipated!
1. Being in Noble Silence (no verbal, physical or eye contact with others) is not that different to the everyday life of a Londoner, particularly one who takes public transport.
2. When obliged to have my eyes closed for 10 waking hours every day during meditation, I start having visual hallucinations and synaesthesia – “seeing” what I feel inside my body, each sensation and movement having a specific shape and colour.
3. My mind could come up with some incredibly elaborate plans to escape the retreat centre, on day 2 and day 6 in particular. You may be glad to know I abstained from bribing local farmers to drive me away on a tractor or hiding in the back of a FedEx delivery van.
4. My mind can also make incredibly detailed images of delicious food, complete with smell and texture, that will most certainly NOT be served at the heavily rice-based vegetarian retreat. And then I had to listen to evening lectures about the point of Vipassana meditation being to overcome cravings and aversions. I wanted steak SO badly and I cannot frigging stand rice!
5. My mind was convinced that if I stared long enough into the women’s side of the gender-segregated retreat centre, I would see Özge there. It took 5 days to stop staring, realising that I was probably scaring all the non-Özges a bit with my visual invasion. Then I started looking at the wildlife and getting depressed every time I saw two wood pigeons fly through the blue skies together. After that, I did a lot of walking in the woods where birds just sit and chirp in trees instead.
6. Knowing that some things are not allowed brings out my mischievous side. On arrival, I went and attached cherry tomatoes to a medium-sized tree in the men’s woodland walking area. Over the next 10 days, oh how I laughed (silently) each time I saw a chap stepping really close to find out if cherry tomatoes really did grow on trees in early April in Herefordshire.
7. Trees have eyes. If you don’t believe me, look at the photo evidence.
8. A gong rung at 4am to wake me and make me start meditating just gets incorporated into my dream and I carry on sleeping. A gong at 6.30am however does get me up so I can have breakfast – which thankfully did not involve rice.
9. I can sit without moving for one hour. Not even a twitch of an eyelid. Now THAT is displaying some Strong Determination, a desirable trait for a Vipassana meditator. If something itches or hurts, I simply delve inside the sensation with equanimity – remembering that to want it to stop would be a craving, and cravings are not allowed. They lead to misery. So I accept the itch or pain and know it will change at some stage. Hopefully soon!
10. My voice gets hoarse and deep after 10 days of silence. I did not want to speak at all when the silence was lifted, but I had to when I came across the lovely guy I had been sharing a room with (without talking or looking at) for 10 days as I wanted to tell him how very considerate he had been. He got up at 4am so quietly every morning to meditate while I carried on sleeping!
11. Eating in a room full of silent people who do not make eye contact and go to great lengths not to accidentally touch each other is like a family Christmas dinner gone horribly wrong. But the more socially shy part of me actually quite enjoyed it…
12. Total silence makes people’s burps, coughs and farts sound disproportionately loud. Particularly in the meditation hall when no one is allowed to move. Or laugh.
13. It’s really funny to find out someone has a strong local accent from Yorkshire when I had created elaborate theories about them being an author from Israel with writer’s block. Or someone else being a Cockney Londoner when I thought they were a Russian living in Greece.
14. Not being allowed to write is in fact much harder for me than not being allowed to talk.
15. There is something quite freeing about not knowing if a major war has broken out in the world or a natural disaster has happened somewhere. The sheep in the neighbouring field just keep on grazing, and there is nothing else to worry about.
16. Would I do it again? Well, I’d need to smuggle in some food, and probably take some time out in the communicating world first – but yes, I would. Another step on the long path that this pilgrim is walking.
For those interested in knowing more, or going on a retreat, here is the website for the UK Vipassana centre called Dhamma Dipa: www.dipa.dhamma.org
There are also other retreat centres all around the world. It is totally free, accommodation and food included – you just donate what you can, what you thought it was worth for you.
